Or staring at him while he sleeps. I know this because A. I know Jack, and he doesn’t like being ogled unless he’s being paid for it, and B. Every time I pull on the sheets tangled around his legs, he grimaces a little more in his sleep. So I do what any decent human being who respects another person would do, and keep pulling. Jack groans and shields his eyes, the early morning sun painting his tousled hair gold. It slants down his chest, making shadows on his bare belly, his neck, his throat. I want to nuzzle into the hollow of his shoulder and live there forever. It feels so surreal – like any second an annoying teen-movie alarm clock will start chirping in my ears and I’ll rouse awake into the real world, in my real bed, alone and cold and sad and convinced no one will ever love me. But he kissed me. He kissed my stretch marks, and my scars. He treated me like a person to be respected, like a thing to be worshipped and handled gently as precious glass.
What do You think about Brutal Precious (Lovely Vicious #3)?
